Blank again
Strange... I had a few days with lots of ideas and even the odd stray memory floating to the top of the barrel, and now I am back to square one with a blank page and no words to fill it.
Maybe because all my spare words are going into my fiction at the moment so there are none left over to unpack into my journal. I hope it's that. And not that I am losing my momentum.
Been here before... I wonder whether there's a pattern to it?
Sunspots, perhaps.
Or just real life catching up with me. I need a better disguise. 'Responsible adult' clearly doesn't cut the mustard. Even I don't believe that one.
Never mind. I'm sure if I rummage through a few more dusty mental cupboards I'll find some more baggage that could do with unpacking and airing. Meanwhile I'll have to sleep on it...